


baggage to lay at your feet

by astrangetypeofchemistry



Series: Chlonette Week [5]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Chloenette, Chlonette except it's not really romantic, F/F, Shit Fucks Up, for the tumblr thing, tw: panic attack, you Know What(tm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 03:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12998781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangetypeofchemistry/pseuds/astrangetypeofchemistry
Summary: Chloé doesn’t realize how much she’s started hating lies.There’s a relief that comes with not keeping secrets, with being open and not holding anything back. The way she can just let Marinette know that it just wasn’t a good day, or that she was just feeling annoyed and can’t meet with her is so refreshing. It’s not like her childhood where she consistently lied to always end up the victor.She should’ve known karma wasn’t quite done with her.





	baggage to lay at your feet

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so, so, so sorry for this.

Chloé doesn’t realize how much she’s started hating lies.

There’s a relief that comes with not keeping secrets, with being open and not holding anything back. The way she can just let Marinette know that it just wasn’t a good day, or that she was just feeling _annoyed_ and can’t meet with her is so refreshing. It’s not like her childhood where she consistently lied to always end up the victor.

She should’ve known karma wasn’t quite done with her.

Snow covers the ground, prompting Chloé to walk everywhere with her favorite boots. She and Marinette had started meeting up three times a week: coffee dates, to binge watching shows at Marinette’s place, and hanging out at Chloé’s. Marinette had gone nuts when she’d accidentally spent a full night at her place and dragged Chloé out shopping.

She’d made sure to get the exact same shampoo, conditioner, soap and _hair_ _dryer_ she used at home to keep in Chloé’s apartment. And then they’d gone lingerie shopping at Chloé’s request because, as she’d let Marinette know, romance hadn’t been a priority as of late.

They’d ended the day baking, Chloé kneading dough for bread with Marinette’s guidance. Kneading had eventually led to them kissing and cuddling, and the bread had been left behind as they fell asleep, the TV playing in the background.

It had been nice and peaceful, and Chloé couldn’t stop feeling warm whenever she saw Marinette. Her hands would scramble for her phone whenever Marinette’s ringtone went off, and her mouth would always gravitate towards Marinette, as if there was an invisible force refusing to let her pull away.

Being with Marinette had let down her guard wholly, leaving her raw and vulnerable. There wasn’t really anyone who could exploit it.

She hadn’t really thought much of the fact that she was constantly getting phone calls on her private number, but only because she never bothered to pick them up anyway. And then there was an influx of messages coming in as well, all unread. She hadn’t even bothered to glance over them, deeming them unimportant. Then, her phone had started pinging with new emails every five minutes. She’d chalked them all down to spam bots getting her email.

She’d finally realized something was up when Madame Hidalgo’s office started getting calls for her. No one she knew, other than Marinette, was aware she worked there. Most of her coworkers knew her as Charlene, the fake name she’d created in an effort to disappear.

Except for Madame Hidalgo, but the woman herself couldn’t _not_ know her political rival’s daughter.

The first call she got had been a terrifying voice telling her she deserved to die. She was been so terrified, she immediately hung up. It hadn’t been _too_ bad. He hadn’t said her name, so her mind jumps to thinking that it had to do with Madame Hidalgo’s political stances. Or, it might have been another sexist asshole angry that a woman was the mayor.

Either way, Chloé moved on from it quick, a few deep breaths reminding her that it wasn’t happening again. It took another two calls before she finally took the day off, tired of being on the verge of a panic attack.

The walk back to her apartment was quiet, and Chloé feels foolish for the false sense of hope it gives her. Because the moment she turns onto her street, she finds it crowded, people throwing things at her apartment and screaming. She stands frozen for a minute before turning around, running far away. Her steps lead her to a nearby café, the same one, she recalls dimly, she and Marinette meet up in, and she hides out in one of the bathroom stalls.

Her mind overloads, reminding her of all the death threats she’d received. She remembers waking up to thousands of message saying the same thing over and over and over.

_Go die._

_Why are you even alive?_

_The world would be such a better place without you_.

She doesn’t know how they found her again, after her many efforts to be careful. She hasn’t even told her father that she was working for one of his competitors, her efforts to distance herself from all reality extending past blood relations. All she knows is that she’s not strong enough fo this, not strong enough to drive them away from her _home_ , the one place she’d made herself. She’s already given up so much because of these people so, _why won’t they leave her alone that’s all she wants._

She doesn’t know how much time passes. All she knows is that one minute, she’s rocking back and forth on a dirty toilet seat in a stall she can’t be bothered to lock, and the next, Marinette is somehow there. The familiar scent of mint washes over Chloé and she finds herself clinging to Marinette.

She’s saying something to Chloé, her words mangled. Some part of Chloé wonders if there’s water in her ears. Marinette picks her up bridal style, and Chloé leans her head against Marinette’s shoulder.

Nothing is distinguishable, and Chloé stares at Marinette’s hair as it bounces. She knows that Marinette is most likely walking, but she can’t really feel it. It feels more like she’s suspended in space, and Marinette is the only reason she hasn’t drifted off.

 _Maybe she is_.

Chloé finds herself unable to function. It feels like her mornings before she’d met Marinette. Everything was slow, and moving was too much pain to bear.

But it had _never_ been this bad. She’d never felt so willing to just stay frozen forever. The will to move had always kept her grounded long enough to finally get moving.

Marinette was there, though. And Chloé knew that she wouldn’t let herself just fade away without at least easing her worries. Marinette didn’t deserve to suffer like that.

If there’s anything the last few years had done for Chloé, it was making her a lot less selfish. It was just unfortunate that the mob that had trashed her apartment was unwilling to believe it was possible.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr @queerinette


End file.
